Miriam Silverman, left, as Mary, and Arnie Burton as John, two islanders in the Pacific Northwest worried about the disappearance of a local orca pod, in Abe Koogler’s Deep Blue Sound.
The Clubbed Thumb theater company follows up last year’s excellent Grief Hotel with another gem that originated in its Summerworks program, Abe Koogler’s Deep Blue Sound, in which a group of islanders in the Pacific Northwest mourn the disappearance of a nearby pod of orca whales. The production, in residency at the Public Theater, is astonishing: Koogler’s play is both strange and naturalistic, as funny as it is deeply moving, even shattering; Arin Arbus’s note-perfect direction is mesmerizing, smartly enhancing the emotional climaxes but never overdoing them; and the ensemble of nine is simply extraordinary.
Ella (Maryann Plunkett, left), who is dying of cancer, has dinner with Joy (Mia Katigbak), the editor of the local newspaper, ostensibly to work on Ella’s obituary. Photographs by Maria Baranova.
The play opens with eight of the islanders seated in a semicircle as they begin to describe the story (scenic design by the collective dots). Meta-theatrical dialogue explains the main and subsidiary characters they portray, and there are also moments when they morph into their characters and begin discussions or arguments that will come into focus later. Although there is cross-talk, and all of this comes fast (the pace is a great strength of Arbus’s direction), somehow nothing is unclear. This symphonic opening gives way to individual scenes, usually two characters at a time, with occasional group meetings to discuss the whale problem.
Whales are on their minds, but so are other, more human, concerns. Ella (Maryann Plunkett) is dying of cancer, though she refuses to tell her best friends, John (Arnie Burton) and Mary (Miriam Silverman). John seems to be coping with his loneliness by trying to forge a connection with “Homeless Gary” (Ryan King), an enigmatic loner who walks around with a chainsaw offering his woodcutting services. Mary is hounded by her husband Chris (Armando Riesco), whose anger issues have forced her to separate; Riesco also pivots to play Alexander, a young boy obsessed with dancing.
Mary argues with her husband Chris (Armando Riesco), who has an anger-management issue.
Ella’s daughter, Ali (Carmen Zilles), knows her mother is dying, and is visiting from New York to care for her, though they spend much of their time arguing. Ella meets with the editor of the local newspaper, Joy (Mia Katigbak), to craft her own obituary, but she effaces herself and spends all their time together learning about Joy, who whimsically tells tales about having been in a cult.
What is a small town without its quirky mayor? Or, “symbolic mayor” Annie (Crystal Finn), who wasn’t really elected and has no power—don’t remind her. Finn also portrays Mo, Alexander the dancer’s mother, who seems at a loss for words when her son asks her if he’s a good dancer. Finally, there is Les, or “Leslie for long,” (Jan Leslie Harding) a horse groomer whose harmless awkwardness could be a play unto itself:
Islander B: But sometimes you see someone [in the grocery store] and you think oh no: I’m going to browse the soups intently. I’m going to see what kinds of soups they have.
Leslie: It’s funny because people often do that to me.
Islander B: Oh yeah? Well, that’s …
Harding does a remarkable job of capturing the ways in which Les can be grating but also making her sympathetic. One emotional gut-punch arrives when Les dictates an email to her pen pal, addressing him as “my darling,” though he seems to have ghosted her: her vulnerability is almost hard to watch. Another highlight is Ella briefly letting her guard down to admit her fear and anger: “I have wasted my fucking life.” Plunkett is a master of tightly coiled emotional turmoil brewing under a seemingly benign surface. When it finally bursts forth, just for a moment, it’s devastating.
Mayor Annie (Crystal Finn), here with Mary, is often reminded that she is a “symbolic mayor” without real powers, much to her chagrin.
Everyone seems united by their love of the whales and their sadness at the pod’s disappearance, and that sadness, over something ineffable gone missing, seeps into every interaction. The entire space of the Shiva Theater is used to great effect: at one point, Gary follows a pack of wild wolf-dogs into the forest, which unites dots’ scenic design, Isabella Byrd’s lighting, and Mikala Sulaiman’s sound design to create a surprising, beautiful, and memorable moment.
Deep Blue Sound, like the songs of the whales, ultimately beggars description—it must be experienced. This is a union of virtuoso writing, directing, and acting, and a reminder that the beauty and meaning that the characters seek in the whales can, on rare occasions, be found in the theater as well.
Deep Blue Sound runs through April 5 at the Public Theater (425 Lafayette St.). Evening performances are at 7:30 p.m. Monday to Saturday; matinees are at 3:30 p.m. Saturdays and 3 p.m. on some Wednesdays. For tickets and more information, visit publictheater.org.
Playwright: Abe Koogler
Director: Arin Arbus
Scenic Design: dots
Costume Design: Emily Rebholz
Lighting Design: Isabella Byrd
Sound Design: Mikaal Sulaiman
